


Prologue to the Frat Party

by anonymousmadame2911



Category: Stucky - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Brain Trauma, Coma, Fluff, Multi, Rape, concussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousmadame2911/pseuds/anonymousmadame2911
Summary: tw: rape, brain trauma, concussion





	Prologue to the Frat Party

You looked up at a pair of stunning blue eyes. 

“What?” You mumbled.

“I asked if you were ok.”

“Yeah…?”

You weren’t sure how you ended up here. Blood streamed down the side of your head and dripped down your tank top. You had a massive hole in your black leggings. The headache squeezed your brain. A wave of nausea curled your stomach. You threw up on this golden Adonis’s shoes. Another pair of stunning blue eyes popped up from behind him.

“Steve? Well, that’s one way to make an impression.”

You looked up at him from among your dark curls. Your eyes drank in his casual appearance. Steve put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. 

“Go get Dr. Banner.”

“Banner’s not an actual MD. He’s got 7 PhDs.”

“Then get Dr. Cho. Can you stand up?”

You braced yourself against the wall outside the door and stumbled to your feet. How did you get here? Who were these people? You picked up that one was Steve. Who was the other one?

“What’s your name?”

What WAS your name? Where had you even come from? A young Korean woman in a white coat and glasses came to the door. You slid back down to the ground. She placed her index and middle finger on your carotid artery. 

“Your pulse is strong. But let’s get to the clinic. And let’s get a sample of that.”

She gestured to the pile of blue vomit on Steve’s shoes and the door frame. Dr. Banner walked in swiftly with a Petri dish and scooped some of the vomit into it. Bucky made a face and stood back from Banner.

“You know Bucky. You are awfully delicate for someone who survived Hydra and World War 2.”

The blond Adonis leaned down to you. He examined your face closely. You stared at the ground. 

“What happened to you?” He mused.

“I have no idea.” You looked at him confused.

“Here. Bucky. Give me a hand.”

He offered you his arm. You took it and stumbled to your feet. Bucky stood on your other side and you used his right bicep for guidance. You gave it a squeeze to make sure had really grabbed him and not the door frame. Dr. Cho walked the three of you down to the clinic. Banner peeled off to the lab. You had trouble holding your head up. You curled up on the gurney as soon as she pointed out which one would be yours. 

“Should we be keeping her here? We don’t know if she’s friend or foe.”

Bucky was suspicious of you from the moment you felt up his bicep. You landed on the doorstep of the Avengers Tower. You were neither a Mary Kay sales woman, a Jehovah’s Witness, nor a Girl Scout selling cookies. He was wary of strangers in his vicinity. 

“Stark has a rigid security system. She’s surrounded by an entire team of super-heroes. What could possibly happen?”

“Famous last words.”

Cho had determined that you had a concussion and that you would need to stay up for 24 hours. She worried that you would accidentally slip into a coma. 

“Well, I’ve got no idea who I am or where my family is so really, what does it matter?”

Your dark humor became evident. The Avengers took shifts watching over you. You got to know each one of them in turn. Steve and Bucky were the most difficult to crack. When it came to their shifts, you wanted to walk around the city. If you stayed at the Tower, you knew you would fall asleep. You were quick to find dark corners and hide. They refused to let you out. You begged. You manipulated. You cajoled. You flattered. 

“Come on. What’s the worst that could happen? I could die? I almost did once. What difference does it make?”

Steve shook his head and sighed.

“Fine. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been here. I want to look around.”

Without a bag, you waltzed out the front door. You walked around the neighborhood. You saw a road sign pointing in the direction of New York City. 

“New York City? What’s that?”

“You’ve never been?” 

Steve was stunned. 

“No…?”

This raised his suspicions. He called Buck.

“Hey. We’re gonna head into New York City. You wanna join us. You have the next shift with her.”

He turned to you. 

“How about I get a car from Stark’s collection and we can drive into the city?”

“Oooooo. That sounds fancy. Am I going to get in trouble?”

“Nope.”

“Are you?”

“Probably.”

You smiled at him.

“Let’s go. It’ll keep me from slipping into a coma.”

Steve and you met Bucky in the lobby at the tower. The three of you took the elevator down to the garage, which housed a collection of exotic, European and vintage cars. 

“Are you gonna let me drive?”

“No. You’re about to slip into a coma.”

“Am not. If I sleep, then I’ll fall into a coma. Driving won’t make me sleep.”

“No. You aren’t insured.”

“So?! I’ll only get in trouble if I get caught!”

You skipped over to the locker with all the car keys. You looked over the different labels attached to the keys. You grabbed the keys for a vintage convertible Porsche. You raced over to it and brought the top down. 

“Wait a minute. 3 people can’t fit in there. And it’s a stick shift!”

“Hush up. I can drive a stick shift.”

Both boys looked at you. 

You could feel how they took notes on anything you said. You had no idea why. It wasn’t as though it would help YOU figure out who you were. You stopped stressing about figuring out who you were a few hours into your stay at the tower. You had a laissez-faire attitude about everything. Whatever will be will be. 

“But, you’re right Bucky. All three of us can’t fit in here.”

You returned the keys and grabbed the keys to an Astin Martin. You got into the driver’s side and the boys practically jumped in after you. 

“Co-pilot, you got directions to New York City?”

Steve nodded and you sped out of the garage. 

“Where did you learn to drive a stick?”

You shrugged. 

“Like everything else, I don’t remember. I don’t even remember how I ended up on your front step. Put your seatbelt on.”

You punched down on the gas. The fire-engine red on this car made you feel things. You looked in the rearview mirror and saw Bucky watching you closely. 

“Bucky,” you sang, “why’re you so suspicious?”

You blew him a kiss and drove faster. 

“Perhaps you should consider following the speed limit,” Steve suggested.

“What’s that?” You played dumb. 

“Those numbers over there indicate how fast you should be going.”

You gave him a blank stare.

“Really?”

You drove even faster. 

“Steve. She’s playing with you,” Bucky said dryly.

“He’s right. I am. I know what a speed limit is. I just don’t know who I am.”

You winked at Steve and cackled. You enjoyed how uncomfortable these boys were. You arrived in New York City and pulled into a parking garage. Steve paid and the three of you ambled out of the garage. You fit in with the native New Yorker in your torn leggings and tank top. They had been washed and dried so at least they were clean. The boys sandwiched you between them in case you tried anything. You hooked your hands into the inside of their elbows and pulled both of them close to you.

“Don’t worry, boys. I promise not to bite, unless you ask.”

You giggled watching them turn a shade of tomato red. You slapped both of their asses and kept walking. They walked quickly after you, afraid to lose you in the crowd. You had nothing to worry about, because you knew that you had no ulterior motives. They, on the other hand, were still trying to suss you out. You weren’t afraid to be open with them. You have nothing to hide when you have no memory. 

“Dr. Cho said that my memory may or may not come back. Depends on triggers and stress levels.”

You shrug and walk on. You pass a place called “The Vodka Room.”

“I might have no memory, but I think this looks like a bar.”

“We can’t get drunk.”

“Well, Bucky,” you sass at him, “everything’s not about you and the golden Adonis here. Y’all might be hot, but y’all sure are no fun.”

You walk in and order.

“Should you be drinking?”

“Steve. You look concerned for someone who just met me a few hours ago. Weren’t you suspicious that I was trying to infiltrate the tower or whatever? Don’t pretend to be concerned about me now when you didn’t give two shits before.”

He looked at you like you had just kicked his puppy. 

“No. You don’t get to pull that. If Bucky had his way, I would have been left to die on your door step.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to look ashamed. 

“Just leave me here and go back to the Tower.”

You proceeded to order 8 shots of tequila. You got totally wasted. As they dragged you back to the car, you saw a bright pink neon sign that hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“Wait,” you slurred.

“Come on. We gotta work tomorrow.”

“No, please,” you said softly.

“Buck. She needs a minute.”

You looked at the pink sign. Flashes of military fatigues, a pink neon sign and your voice shouting “no” echoed in your mind. You grasped at the memory trying to flesh it out. All you could remember was that 8 years ago you were viciously raped by a major lieutenant in the US Army while you were on vacation in Seoul. You threw up on the sidewalk. 

“Alright. That’s enough. Let’s get to the car.” 

Bucky strong-armed you back to the Astin Martin. He took the keys from you and put you in the back seat. You slumped down in the back seat where Bucky couldn’t see you from the rear view mirror. Your 24-hour surveillance was a few hours from being up. You would be relieved to be away from people who pretended to care about you when you knew the truth. They didn’t. You would be back on the street and on your own again. That old cliché was true: ignorance is bliss. What good did it do you to remember your past?  
After a silent ride back to the Tower, you dragged yourself behind the boys into the hospital clinic. You waited on your gurney for the last shift to come. Steve came into the room.

“Someone fall asleep on the job?”

“Nah. I switched with Stark. I’m taking your last shift.”

“Just couldn’t get enough of me. I knew you were in love with me.”

You winked at him and he gave you a gentle smile. 

“So what happened back there? Did you have a memory?”

“Yes. But nothing good…nothing useful.”

“What was it?”

“I was raped.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I hope he died a slow death. I hope his wife and his daughters have to suffer what I had to at his hands.”

You stare at the floor. 

“Steve, I don’t really know you. Hell, I don’t even know who I am. But I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

You wipe the tears from your face and blow your nose in a tissue.

“You wanna hug?”

“No. Don’t pity me and don’t give me that fucking look. I fucking hate that look.”

Bucky stepped into the room with three coffees and some cookies. 

“And I thought YOU hated me?”

“I’m wary of you. I don’t know whether to trust you or if you’re a plant.”

“And what about you Winter Soldier? What makes YOU so innocent?”

He was rendered speechless. You were direct and honest, a refreshing change. You didn’t pander to him. You weren’t trying to get anything from him. You weren’t trying to blow his ego up. You treated him like an equal. He was stunned.  
The next morning, you met with Stark and the team. 

“The blue in your vomit was food coloring. The computer compiled the list of compounds in your vomit and came up with a cupcake with blue frosting. The surveillance cameras show you flying in from the stratosphere but we can't trace from where exactly. The images were scrambled because of the electronic frequency messing with the cameras. We did a reversal Google image search of all social media accounts and you don’t have one. We aren’t sure where you come from. We’d like you to stay here until we can gather more information.”

“Where else am I gonna go? The streets?”

“We just want you to be comfortable.”

“Really? Some of y’all thought I was here to take you down. Look at me. How am I gonna do that with a head wound, no money, no ID, no nothing…?! Yeah. I guess I’ll stay here.” 

Stark showed you to your room where you sat staring out the window for an hour. You had no idea what to do next. You had no clothes. No money. No phone. No clue where you were supposed to go or what you were supposed to do. You heard a light tap at your door. 

“Come in.”

The golden Adonis poked his head through the door. You returned to staring out the window. 

“Just checking in to see if you’re OK.”

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do.”

He sat next to you on the bed. 

“You wanna watch a movie.”

“Hm. What kind?”

“Whatever kind you want.”

“I don’t know what kind of movies I like. I am just stuck with this one memory of being raped 8 years ago. Why…? Why couldn’t I remember my family or my friends? Where am I even from? How did I end up here? I don’t understand the reason behind any of this.”

He gently rubbed your back. You pushed his hand away.

“Please don’t. I’m not comfortable with you like that yet. I know I flirt with you and Bucky, but it’s not serious. I just like to see the two of you blush.”

“Alright. Come on. Let’s go to the theater and watch a movie.”

You made a face.

“Are you going like that?”

“Like what?”

“Dressed like that?! You are not going out like that! Let me see your closet.”

Steve led you to his room. You walked in just as Bucky left his own room. 

“Bucky,” you squealed, “we’re going to the movies and you’re coming with us.”

He shrugged and followed you and Steve into his room. You slid open Steve’s closet. You shifted through the pile of sweat pants and tank tops. You found a pair of black jeans and a black sweater. 

“Movie theaters are always cold. Put these on.”

You turned to Bucky.

“No way in hell you’re going like that,” you whispered, “jeans and a sweater. None of this workout bullshit.”

He trudged to his room to change. He returned in jeans and a tank top. 

“Listen here. I said jeans and a sweater. This is NOT jeans and a sweater. I mean, you DO look hot, but you’re gonna be freezing.”

You stomped off to his room with Steve and Bucky in tow. You rifled through his closet and found a chocolate sweater. 

“For someone who was in Hydra AND the military, you would think you would know how to follow instructions. But no. Oh nooooooooooooooooooo. You don’t.”

You looked at them to see amused grins on their faces. Finally dressed, Steve led the three of you to the 24th floor. 

“Oh. I thought you meant a real theater. Not an in-house Stark theater.”

Steve made a bag of popcorn and Bucky grabbed a box of Whoppers. The three of you cozied up on a reclining loveseat with a blanket. 

“Put on Moulin Rouge.”

“I heard Jurassic Park is good.”

“No. Moulin Rouge.”

“For someone with a missing memory, you sure know what movie you wanna watch,” Bucky teased.

“Alright. Moulin Rouge it is.”

“Captain has spoken,” you said with finality, “If I had known we were staying at the Tower, y’all could’ve worn your stinky workout gear.” 

You waved your hand dismissively at them.

From that day forward, the three of you were thick as thieves. You had inserted yourself into their lives and had no intention of going anywhere. You were runnin’ in the streets on the weekends, showing them how to have a good time. You showed them what they missed out on while they were frozen in ice. You took them to college parties, frat parties, after parties, gay clubs, drag shows, movies—SOOOOOOOOOO many movies. You took them to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” at the theaters. Y’all would fall asleep on top of each other at the theater. During the blackout, the three of you trudged through the streets of Manhattan together, sharing in your mutual misery—no taxis, no A/C in the dead of summer, no water. They would pull you away from strange men flirting with you at the bar. You would try to hook them up with strange women at the bar. You took them trick-or-treating for Halloween. You shared Thanksgiving and Christmas together since none of you had family. You made new memories to replace all the ones that you had forgotten. But the thorn in your side was that you were stuck with that one memory from your past. Was it worth getting your memory back if all it was was suffering and pain?


End file.
